Winchester Investigations: We Work With Monsters
by SamFuckingJaywalker
Summary: Saving people. Hunting things. Helping the helpless. The family business. "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" is a TV show, but Angel and the Slayer are very much real. The Slayer is a servant of Heaven and her Watcher is an angel. The Winchesters meet Slayer/white witch Rory Hartland in a vampire nest, and Dean reacts badly. Chaos ensues when the brothers meet Angel and he turns.


**Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon. Or Eric Kripke. However, Joss Whedon is technically a character in a flashback in this. Don't ask, you'll find out soon enough.**

 **A/N: So my crossover-y universe is pretty epically fucked up. Know that I am only on Season Seven of Supernatural, Season Four of Buffy, and Season One of Angel. I've done some random research to try to formulate a legitimate Angelverse in 2009. And the Buffyverse is pretty much nonexistent in this story, but the Angelverse is prominent. You'll understand eventually.**

"Vampires should really up their security measures," Dean Winchester muttered to his brother.

"I think the point is that they _are_ the security," Sam whispered back, slipping a machete out of his jacket. The brothers slipped around a corner in the seemingly abandoned building, and into a broad room studded with pillars. A broadsword was propped against the far wall, gleaming in the soft moonlight that streamed through the skylights.

Suddenly, a high-pitched cough rang out in the near-dead silence. The Winchesters jumped, going back-to-back. Sam caught a glimpse of a slumped figure against one of the numerous pillars and took a tentative step toward it.

"Hello?" he whispered loudly. The coughing stopped, and silence filled the room like a gas. Dean turned in the direction of the figure and clicked on his flashlight. The beam revealed a girl, bound to the pillar behind her and barely conscious.

"Bad move, hunter." A low hiss emanated from behind them, and the boys whirled. The instant they were facing the vampire that had spoken, a second slipped from the shadows and clubbed them both over the head.

Sunlight seemed to flicker through the dirty skylights, teasing across Dean's eyelids. He twitched, and felt a chafing against his wrists. At that, he jerked awake, head throbbing. He and his giant of a brother were bound to pillars, facing the girl from earlier. For some reason, she was blurry.

"Sam!" Dean croaked. Why was his voice so dead? How long had it been? "Sam!" he called again, strength returning to his growl.

Sam moaned a little, still out of it. The girl, conscious now, called out. "Oi! Sasquatch! Wake up!" At that, Sam rolled his head upright and blinked a few times. Noticing his bonds, he started straining against them.

"What happened? he growled, still struggling.

"It's no use, Bigfoot," the girl said dejectedly. "These vamps have a witch among them, and the ropes are spelled." Dean squinted again, and the girl came a little more in focus. Why was she the only blurry thing in the room? With the focus, however, came a ringing in his ears.

"They disarmed all of us, but our weapons wouldn't've done much good anyway. This kinda spell can only be broken with titanium, for some reason."

"So we're screwed," Dean said, and he would have thrown his hands in the air if they weren't bound to a pillar.

"Not quite," the girl conceded. "I've got a titanium ring on, but it's not nearly sharp enough, and I can't reach its release mechanism for the razor."

" _What?"_ Dean looked at the girl, utterly confused. She was still blurry.

"Oh, come on, Dean," she said amiably. "You underestimate me."

The ringing in his ears increased and he squeezed his eyes shut. Then, something dawned on him. "How'd you know my name?" he asked suspiciously. The girl's eyes widened and she muttered something under her breath. "Who _are_ you?"

He squinted again, and the ringing increased again.

"Name's Rory," she said, and then her face twisted in concentration. Dean failed to notice that she hadn't answered his first question.

Sam, who had been silent for this exchange, suddenly broke in. "You're a hunter," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Technically, I'm the Slayer, but, sure, simplify it for yourself if you must." They heard a snapping noise and Rory gasped in shock and pain. "Got it!" she growled, and, a few seconds later, her ropes fell away.

"Hold up a minute," Dean said as she rushed over to him and started slicing through his ropes. She paused. "You're telling me _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is real?"

" _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ only exists because I once saved Joss Whedon from a werewolf," Rory said, and continued to cut him free. She grimaced suddenly, and Dean noticed she was holding her left arm very still. " _I_ , on the other hand, am very much real." She grinned in triumph and Dean stood from the fallen ropes, almost collapsing on his unused legs. The blurry blonde in front of him caught him by the shoulder, and, at the touch, a rush of images hit him. He put his hand to his head and gasped.

Rory pulled her hand away, and the flow stopped. She looked concerned. "Are your ears ringing?" she asked quietly. Dean nodded, and Rory headed over to Sam and cut him free. He stood and started rubbing his wrists.

Rory ran over to the far side of the room and picked up the sword. She swung it around a bit, bringing more feeling to her unbroken wrist. Then, she turned back to the Winchesters. "How 'bout we go kick some vampire ass?" she asked, grinning maliciously. The brothers looked at her, startled by her enthusiasm. She turned back to the door, and Sam ran up behind her as she was about to open it.

"Wait!" he cried, and grabbed her left wrist.

She hissed in agony, and Sam dropped her wrist. "What- are you-"

"She broke her wrist to get to the titanium razor, dumbass," Dean said, walking up behind them. "Right?" He turned to Rory. She nodded, fighting back tears.

"But I'm fine," she growled. "Just don't touch it. I've had worse." The Winchesters raised their eyebrows in unison.

Just then, of course, a vampire entered from the other side of the room, hissing a little at the sunlight. It ran toward them, but seconds later, it no longer had a head. Rory had decapitated it with a one-handed sweep of her sword.

"No better than beasts, those," she said matter-of-factly, and wiped the blood off on the vamp's clothes. She turned back to Sam. "Why'd you stop me?"

"We can't just let you go out there alone," Sam said as if it was obvious.

"I think I've proven my capability of handling vamps alone, thanks," Rory said, and left the room. Sam turned to Dean and they rolled their eyes in unison.

"Is she blurry to you?" Dean muttered.

"What?"

"It's like I can't focus on her at all." Sam waved his hand in front of Dean's eyes.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, holding up three.

"No, Sam, I can see fine, she's just really blurry. And a bit familiar, now that I think of it." Dean was having serious feelings of-

"Like deja vu?" Sam asked.

"Yes, exactly like that." He shook his head and they left.

Rory was waiting for them down the hall. "Contemplating the meaning of life back there?" she asked sarcastically. "I'm the one with the sword, boys, so you might as well stick close to me."

"Yeah, well, you're also the one with the broken wrist, sweetheart," Dean called.

In a flash, she had him pinned to the wall with the sword to his throat. "Don't- call me- _sweetheart_ ," she growled.

"Alright, sweetie," Dean said jokingly. He obviously didn't think this _girl_ was capable of hurting him. She suddenly tensed, withdrew the sword, and slashed the head off a vamp right behind Sam.

"Wake up, boys. They're not here to play nice." She dropped to her knees in front of the vamp and removed a machete from the corpse. Dean reached out for it, but she rebuffed him and handed it to Sam. "Behind you," she said calmly, and Sam whirled to see another vamp. Its head was gone in an instant, and Sam disarmed it, handing the second machete to Dean.

"Let's go kick some vampire ass," Dean said, quoting Rory from earlier with his eyebrows raised. She smirked a bit and they crept down the hall.

The halls in the nest had a tendency to lead to open spaces and pillars, because that's exactly where this hall led.

Except this open space was swarming with vampires.

The three sighed in unison.

"Well, well, well," a disembodied voice said. A lone figure stepped into the sunlight, ignoring the immediate reddening of its skin. "Looks like lunch got out."

He walked further into the light, bringing the attention all to himself. "Who could be responsible for that?" His tone was accusing and sarcastic.

Rory stuck her hand in the air enthusiastically. "That would be me. I highly suggest you don't tie up a witch with a spell she invented."

The vampire's face contorted into astonishment. "You're the Slayer," he mused. "The little white witch of LA."

"That's me," she said proudly. "Don't think I wouldn't be prepared to escape my own binding."

"It's an honour to meet you, witchling," the vampire deadpanned.

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine, Headless," Rory replied, and her sword flashed.

And fell to the ground at a snap of the vampire's fingers.

"You forget that a witch must actually perform the binding, witchling," he purred, lifting the sword.

"And you forget that I'm the proficient one in the room," Rory snarled, and the vampire cut his own head off.

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Nice one," he commended the Slayer as the sword returned to her hand.

"Thanks," she panted. "Not the time. You forget we're surrounded."

"Not anymore, we're not," Sam said, looking around. The remaining vampires were gone.

Rory swore loudly. "I _hate_ illusions!"

"Oh, I'm not an illusion, little lady," a voice said in a thick Cockney accent. Silver flashed and Sam hissed as his arm was slit open. Dean practically _snarled_ as he swung his machete through the real vamp's neck.

Sam pressed his sleeve against the wound, but the blood kept flowing. "Oh, here," Rory said, looking around. "Ha!" She ran over to the wall and picked up a duffel bag. Rummaging through it, she said, "I've got something in here, oh, where is it- aha!" She pulled out a glass vial of yellowy liquid and a tiny round tin and rushed back to the bleeding Sam.

Slipping a small knife out of her sleeve, she cut away his sleeve and trickled the liquid over the cut. Sam hissed, and Rory scooped a thick, sharp-smelling salve out of the tin. She spread it over the wound and muttered a few words in Latin. Silver light emanated from her fingers, and the cut knit back together, re-absorbing the lost blood.

Rory glanced at Dean. He was squinting and holding his head in his hands. Sam was looking at his newly healed arm, astonished.

"How-"

Rory cut Sam off. "Magic, dumbass." She walked over to Dean and looked him in his squinting eyes.

"Do you know what's happening?" she asked softly.

"You- you-" Rory set her fingers against his temples and he gasped.

"Sleep." she murmured, and Dean collapsed into her arms.

"Hey!" Sam ran over and helped lay Dean on the ground. "What did you do?"

Rory looked up at the man, obviously nervous. "There are some things he can't know, Sam. Get him back to your hotel and let him rest." She rummaged through her bag and handed him a card. "Don't call unless it's a real emergency." With that, she ran out of the building.

"Wait! Rory-" Sam sighed and looked down at his unconscious brother. How the hell was he supposed to get him back to a hotel without getting caught?

 **A/N: You decide how he managed it. Don't ask me.**

ONE WEEK LATER

Rory's phone rang. She accepted the call. "Angel Investigations, we help the helpless," she said in a rush. Where the hell did _that_ old slogan come from?

"What the hell is Angel Investigations?" the familiar voice of Sam asked. Rory groaned.

"Sorry, I don't even know why I have that old card. I swear it's me. This better be an emergency."

"Yeah, it's an emergency. Dean's relapsing. Headaches, he's passed out twice now, and his ears won't stop ringing."

"Shit. Where are you?" Rory asked, switching her grip on the cell and grabbing a pen.

"On our way to LA now. We'll be there in an hour."

"OK. Hyperion Hotel. It's abandoned, technically, but it's mine, so come on down."

"Thanks, Rory- shit. He's out. Be there soon."

Crap. Rory didn't actually have keys to the Hyperion.

Angel did, though. She'd have to pay her old colleague a visit.

 **A/N: And here's where I leave you for now! The next chapter will be mostly a flashback, and will explain Dean's inexplicable illness. And Rory's involvement with Angel Investigations.**


End file.
